


skies left for our flying, places left to see

by transstevebucky



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Armpit Kink, Backrubs, Biting, Chesthair Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Fingering, Fluff, Flying, Humiliation kink, Kissing, Multi, Rimming, Wingfic, Wings, a tag I never thought I'd use but it works for them, but what else is new, everyone listens to Louis because louis is The Ultimate Dom, harry likes being ignored, hey it's there somewhat right, honestly I can't believe myself, hydrokinesis, it's heavily implied all queer people are magical, it's so fucking fluffy honestly, pyrokinesis, that's a thing now sorry, the smut isn't a huge part because it's taken over but, those two are kind of barely there, very very mild though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-21 17:44:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3701123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transstevebucky/pseuds/transstevebucky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry’s always been way better of a human than either Louis or Nick (or anyone, really), and it’s not like Louis has been oblivious to that. The video diaries would prove quite the opposite. (Nick still uses those videos as cannon fodder for when Louis says he’s tough and strong and could ‘<i>totally</i> live without either of you, actually.’) </p><p> </p><p>  <i>or; the fic where harry grows wings over night.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reachthetree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reachthetree/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Pixie!!!!! I hope this is everything you wanted and more, and that this doesn't let you down, because you are a beautiful person and deserve all of the best things!!! love you!!
> 
> the title's taken from a haiku by Tyler Knott Gregson because he fits stylinshaw so well it shouldn't be allowed

 

Louis thinks it’s probably a statement to how close he and Harry are that he isn’t in the slightest freaked out by Harry growing pearly white wings. He thinks it’s probably a show of how fucking great they are when put together. He thinks they wings are pretty neat, actually, with the fact there are a few gold stripes in there he hadn’t initially seen. Gold stripes would normally feel slightly gaudy, but as with everything attached to Harry, it fit him.

“Pretty,” he coos, probably sounding completely fucking ridiculous, “you’re an actual angel, Hazza!”

Nick, sitting on the other side of the bed and feeling faintly nauseous, thinks its offensive that it’s taken Louis this long to figure it out. Harry’s always been way better of a human than either Louis or Nick (or anyone, really), and it’s not like Louis has been oblivious to that. The video diaries would prove quite the opposite. (Nick still uses those videos as cannon fodder for when Louis says he’s tough and strong and could ‘ _totally_ live without either of you, actually.’)

Harry’s wincing, eyes slightly glassy, and Nick feels a rush of sympathy for his boy when he realises how much these giant new wings must be playing havoc with his back problems. He’s also shuddering every time Louis touches the feathers, though, so Nick thinks he’ll probably be alright.

“Back hurts,” Harry mutters, voicing what Nick had already figured out, “they’re really heavy.”

Nick tries not to feel smug about the fact that he knew something about Harry before Louis did, but it is a lost cause. Nick is just a naturally smug person, and when it comes to Louis and Harry, he’s even fucking worse. It’s just that he’s got these two really fucking beautiful boys that he gets to call his boyfriends, and he’s so emotional about it all the time that it feels a nice change to smirk about it instead. It had been a right shock for him when Louis had kissed him the first time, fury in his eyes and alcohol on his tongue. Now it feels like a gift.

“Poor Hazza, my darling angel babe,” Louis croons, eyes twinkling with what can only be described as ‘complete and utter adoration’. Nick is completely, utterly gone for both of them, and his chest hurts.

Harry grins at Louis, lip tucked between his teeth; the same smile that got him out of every bad spot he’s ever been in. “Angel,” he whispers, and Nick hates everything and everyone. Louis sounds so, so fucking _soft and sweet,_ and he’s so accustomed to the sharp-edged, witty Louis that this is making him faintly weepy.

“He’s right, babe,” Nick grins, throwing off the ache in his chest that says _they’re both so beautiful how will I ever survive this_ “you are a _total_ angel.”

Harry grins, teeth poking out between his pink lips, dimples on show. He’s so pretty, and wonderful, and there are giant fucking _wings_ sticking out of his back, and it doesn’t even seem like it should be strange. Nick knows his face must give away how fucking endearing he finds him, but then Louis’ is doing the same.

“Thanks, darling.” Harry’s always been a smooth talker, he _knows_ this, but he also knows that the look of aching attraction on Louis’ face must be mirrored on his. There’s something about Harry that makes them both hot under the collar all the time.

Of course, he and Harry team up in getting uncomfortably aroused by Louis at the same time, but it isn’t quite the same. Both Nick and Louis love the idea of corrupting Harry, of giving him all he wants and needs and then making him beg, but they also both love him endlessly. Harry Styles is a fucking beautiful person; too good for this world, too pure.

There’s just something about him that screams ‘I need to be wrecked’ all of the time, and Nick would find it tiring; except he also gets to help ruin him. He’s still not quite over getting to fuck both Louis and Harry, and it’s been eight months. He kind of never wants to be over it, always wants to be shocked by how open and loving and raw they both are. He thinks that probably says something about his previous love life; that this open passion is something he’s never quite felt before.

Louis’ voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and a blush crawls its way up Nick’s neck.

“Do you think you could fly?” He’s sounding excited, a light flicked on behind his eyes like when he’s singing in front of thousands of people. Nick loves this Louis, this bouncy, ridiculous, happy Louis like nothing else.

Harry’s eyes are slowly widening, as if he’s just realised what wings are for, and Nick barely holds back from rolling his eyes into the back of his head.

“Oh my shit, I could fucking fly!” Harry gasps, standing up suddenly. Both Nick and Louis get harshly slapped with white and gold feathers in the face. He’s pretty sure they shouldn’t both sigh happily at this, but he’s also pretty sure that they’re both ridiculously whipped for Harry fucking Styles.

Harry’s bouncing around the room, now, wings dragging along the floor as he hops. He’s the tallest toddler Nick has ever met.

“C’mon, c’mon, we need to test these bitches out!” Harry’s chanting, and well. Nick can never resist the opportunity to mock Harry. Neither can Louis, it appears; he’s also bursting at the seams to mock him, but he had the last one, so it’s Nick’s turn.

“Pretty sure those aren’t the lyrics to the song, sweetheart.” It’s the best he could come up with in the short space of time, and Louis is arching an eyebrow in a way that says ‘really? You went for _that_ one?’

“Six out of ten for effort, and also because you’re ridiculously attractive.” Louis mutters, leaning in behind him to whisper. Nick feels his cock twitch; he kind of likes being a little bit humiliated by Louis, for some reason. It might be the same reason Harry pops a boner every time Louis teases him; because everything Louis does is too hot to dislike it.

“I only get a six? That’s so mean! I’d give you a _nine_ for being absurdly hot.” Nick sighs, but he’s not really bothered at all. Louis is just really fucking hot, and Nick is lucky he gets him.

Louis flushes pink, and Nick feels a smirk pull at the corner of his lips. It’s so rare he gets to see Louis blush, but complimenting him is a sure fire way to get the result he wants. Just to be a little shit, Nick leans in close to him and presses his lips to Louis’, sucking gently on his bottom lip and making him keen. Then he tugs himself away, stands up, and brushes his hands off on his jeans –he’d been half dressed when Harry had stumbled into the bedroom, looking panicked and ill.

Louis grunts in annoyance behind him, and Nick grins to himself before walking over to Harry, who is currently trying to get his ripped skinnies on whilst hopping on one leg. He looks frazzled in a way Nick is sure is not meant to be attractive, but is anyway.

“I wanna test ‘em, I wanna fly!” Harry whines, grabbing on to Nick’s shoulder and shimmying his way into his jeans. When he’s done, he presses a gentle kiss to Nick’s mouth and hops impatiently.

“Darling, I’m really not sure you should do anything like that. You trip over your own feet; what if you bump into a building?” Louis crowds himself against Nick’s body as he says it, lips dragging across his back in a way that has Nick thinking of hands and curves and heat.

Louis is a fucking menace and Nick is hard.

“But _Louuuuu._ ” It’s the petulant whine of a toddler, and Nick needs to sit down before he collapses. He should not be attracted to Harry when he’s like this, all frazzled and whiny, but dear _God_ he fucking is.

“Hazza, baby, I love you so, so much. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” Louis’ voice is stern, and this is really not helping Nick in the slightest.

He tries to remind himself that Harry has wings, big fucking wings, but all he can see is Harry shaking as Louis pressed his fingers into the feathers. This must mean they’re fucking sensitive. And that makes Nick wants to _die._

“Lou, I love you, but you’re being an idiot. They’re wings, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Nick has an image of Harry trying to work out how to use the things as he drops off a building, and feels his heart smush into the carpet. There would be nothing more terrifying than Harry being unable to manoeuvre these gigantic things, and plummeting sixty feet. Nothing in the world could be scarier than that. Not even demon children.

“Haz, I think you should learn how to open your wings up before you do any flying. And also learn how to move them, because you still haven’t got the grasp of moving your legs, and you should know how to move something on that body of yours.” Nick’s a master at compromise; it comes naturally with dating two of the most stubborn people in the world. He knows Harry’s going to agree even before he nods, because his nose crinkles up like it always does when someone else wins.

“Alright, well if that’s sorted…” Louis trails off, and Nick shudders. Louis’ hands are stroking through his chest hair, tugging slightly in a way that makes Nick’s vision glaze.

 He sucks a love bite into Nick’s throat, and Harry pouts where he stands, arms crossed over his chest.

“I’ve got _wings,_ and you want to have _sex_.” Harry sounds irritated, and Nick has a fleeting image of a very angry kitten with its hackles raised.

“Don’t you want sex?” Louis asks, pulling away from Nick’s throat with a wet slurp.

Nick knows this is Louis asking if Harry is open to the idea, and that if it’s anything other than a resounding yes, he’s not getting any more love bites. Not that they matter, really, it’s just been a while since Nick has had Louis on him like this, and it’s making him slightly dazed. Also, Harry’s way more important than Nick getting laid is, so.

“No, I want to learn how to move these things!” Harry cries, and Louis moves away from Nick instantly. Something softens around Harry’s eyes, and he smiles a little bit.

Louis presses his fingers into the dip of the wings, where they’d sprouted out from his back, and Harry’s knees shake. So, _really_ sensitive, then.

“Alright, babe, let’s go outside and see if we can do something about these, yeah?” Louis asks, voice soft in Harry’s ear so that Nick barely hears. Harry nods, looking as dazed as Nick feels, and he thinks that Louis is probably too hot for his own good. Or that both Nick and Harry are too submissive. Or both. Honestly, you never know with Louis.

They all stumble outside, Nick feeling his heart tug as Louis waits for them at the French doors. Louis does nothing but wait, and it _hurts,_ because Louis deserves everything the world has to offer. He thinks Louis should get an award for being  one of the best people to ever exist.

It’s cold, frost staining the tips of the grass icy white, and Nick reaches back inside to grab coats for him and Louis. He would grab one for Harry, but the wings are so huge they’d just tear straight through anyway. This has the adverse effect of making Harry shake the second he walks outside, wings trembling against his back like they could feel the cold, too.

“Chilly.” Harry mumbles, rolling his shoulders and biting his lip, looking to Louis for instructions. Story of their lives, right there. _If unsure, look to Louis._

“Right, babe, you need to learn how to move the wings, so imagine them moving.” Louis is talking out of his arse, probably, but Harry still follows suit. Harry closes his eyes, tilts his head back, stretches his arms out. And his wings, incredibly, shudder open. They’re fucking _massive,_ spanning about twelve feet, so that even this far away from Harry they still feel the air rush as they open fully.

Louis blinks, obviously sure it wasn’t going to work, and Nick grins. Harry’s got this in the bag.

“Louis! Nick! I did it!” Harry giggles as he jumps, legs splaying wildly in the air, and _stays there._ His eyes pop wide, jaw going slack, and Nick feels Louis stiffen beside him.

Harry’s wings are beating, gentle up and down motions that’s pushing cold air towards Nick and Louis. He looks gorgeous, too, the long lines of his torso in contrast to the smooth curve of his wings, and he feels Louis sigh contentedly just looking at him. His body has loosened considerably from the momentary horror they’d both felt, and is now just gazing fondly at their boy. Again, Nick feels slightly breathless at the reminder that Harry is both of theirs, not just Louis’, not just Nick’s. Harry is willing to give his heart away to so many people, and out of all the people he could have chosen, he chose the two most unworthy people in the world.

Neither Nick nor Louis would have it any other way.

“I’m flying, I think.” Harry whispers conspiratorially, and Nick giggles into Louis’ shoulder, can’t believe that he gets to witness Harry Styles _flying_ and being _in awe of himself doing so without breaking several bones._

“You’re doing it, baby, you really are!” Louis sounds endlessly fond, and Nick feels hot to the tips of his toes. There’s something about hearing Louis encourage people that’s hot to him, the same way it makes Harry hot to hear him roast someone on an open fire. (Harry had come in his pants when Louis had had the twitter war with Naughty Boy, and it was astounding to watch.)

“I am, I am! I’m doin’ great! If only I could- fucking _shit_!” Harry’s rasps of excitement are cut short by his wings suddenly beating harder than he’d intended, sending him ten feet into the air.

Louis swallows, suddenly looking green, and Nick isn’t feeling any better. Harry does enough damage to himself on stable ground; god knows what damage he could do that high up, with very little control.

Nick’s heart is lodged in his throat, stomach fallen through his arse. He’s fairly sure this moment right here is the scariest moment he’s ever lived through. And he lived through Louis Tomlinson with norovirus.

Harry’s dangling in the air, wings beating hard enough to keep him up but light enough to keep him hovering. His arms are splayed wide, as if by imitating the wings he could become more balanced. _See the wings. Feel the wings. Be the wings!_

Nick is maybe, slightly panicking. He thinks it is a worthy cause to panic at. He’s a natural worrier, and this is definitely worrying him.

“Are you pissing yourself?” Nick whispers, staring up at Harry’s hovering form, a slight prickling behind his eyes he will never admit to.

“Flooding, probably.” Louis mumbles back, fingers curled into Nick’s back pocket for support.

Louis has always been a bit of a drama queen (Nick won’t deny that this has always been a bit of a turn on; boys who put on a show are boys who you should respect forever.) but Nick knows he isn’t being dramatic. Louis has the biggest protective streak Nick has ever come across, and at first Nick had felt a little bit scared of it, but now it’s comforting. Louis would go around the world and back for the people he loves, and Nick is one of the few who is lucky enough to count himself among those people.

Louis’ eyes are fond, but the tight set of his mouth, the stiffness in his shoulders; it projects his fear in a way Louis has become accustomed to. He’s used to tightening up in public spaces instead of quaking, used to making the fear a reason to be stronger than weaker. Louis had told Nick, one night when he’d gotten absolutely slaughtered, that he was so used to being protective over other’s he’d forgotten how to take care of himself. It’s moments like these, Nick thinks, that Louis needs protecting like the rest of the human race does. His fingers curl around Louis’ waist, eyes still locked on their boy hovering fifteen feet above them.

Louis gives a huff of thanks in reply, fingers scratching along Nick’s arse as if in payment for being nice to him. Nick has to bite down on the smile that almost spreads across his face in response.

“I think,” Harry yells, sounding slightly breathless, like the effort of it is tiring, “that they respond to what I’m thinking about doing, rather than any movement!”

Louis’s eyes glow bright for a moment, and there’s a moment when a smirk slides across his face, but it’s so fleeting Nick is too slow to catch it.

“Really? Even your wings know you like to be used?” Even from this height, Nick can see Harry’s neck and face flush at the implication of Louis’s words. Louis is a menace, and the little shit _knows it._ Nick loves them both so much.

Harry flips over onto his back, apparently against his will, and Nick and Louis wriggle their eyebrows at each other as Harry covers his face, embarrassed. So his wings _do_ respond to his inner desires, then. Even if they’re not directly related to his wings… This is getting more and more interesting as time goes on.

“Hazza, baby, if you wanted it on your back, you need only ask!” Nick cackles out, and Louis high fives him; no longer looking like he’s going to be sick from panicking. Instead, he looks like Christmas has come early.

Harry groans, sounding like he’s ashamed but also secretly enjoying it. Nick loves how easy it is to humiliate him, sometimes. It’s easier to get him off, then, too.

“Why don’t you see if you can fly properly?” Louis calls, and Harry is flipped onto his front, wings bending back to accommodate the sudden movement.

“Sure thing!” Harry smiles, still slightly pink in the face but mostly recovered. (He’s still got a semi bulging out through his jeans, but that doesn’t really count. All three of them are in a near-constant state of arousal when they’re together.)

If Nick didn’t know that nobody lives near here, he’d be worried about Harry being seen, captured, and experimented on. But he does know that nobody lives around here, and so he’s not even slightly worried.

Louis and Harry had chosen the area for that reason; there was nothing worse in the world than fans finding out where you lived, or nosy neighbours. So the alternative was living in a place that nobody would consider celebrities to live in after they’d become famous; Watford. It was close enough to London it wasn’t a huge commute to the radio station for Nick when he stayed over, but far enough away they weren’t often spotted. They’d bought some land away from the town centre, got contractors in, and had their own house built from the ground up in three months flat.

Nick’s momentarily distracted by the hoot of pure glee Harry trills out as his wings propel him through the air. He’s so beautiful, legs splayed and arms wide, face open with pure, childish happiness that sends Nick’s heart down the rabbit hole. He just. He can’t believe he gets this, gets to watch this boy, so famous and so kind and genuine, besides someone else who loves him. He can’t understand how he was ever good enough to get this, he’s just glad he’s got it.

“He’s so fucking beautiful.” Louis murmurs, chin hooked over Nick’s shoulder. The fact Nick _knows_ he’s on tippy toes to do it has warmth curling through his belly.

“He is.” Nick agrees, watching as Harry soars twenty feet higher than he’s gone, so that he’s blurry blob to their tired eyes, before plummeting.

Wingtips brushing Nick and Louis’ heads as he flies past, Harry calls “It’s so fucking fun!”

Nick can’t help but agree.

 

                                                                                                                                     *=*=*

By the time Harry’s gotten even slightly bored of flying (“It’s not the flying that gets boring, it’s that it’s the same view! It would be different if it was a more scenic area!”), it’s lunch time and Louis is ready to take a nap.

All of the standing has him worn out; for someone with a very bouncy disposition, running around leaves him feeling emotionally drained. He’d even tried to get Nick involved in a game of football when Harry was flying, so that they could feel less pathetic for being so hopelessly fond, but Nick had to leave earlier than expected for a meeting, so he hadn’t got the chance to be a complete knob.

Harry’s spread out in front of the fire, Louis’s fingers kneading into the skin of his back he can get at. The wings cover so much area that there’s barely any he can see, but Harry’s whining underneath him, regardless. If Louis is purposefully rubbing at the underside of his wings, where he’s slightly more sensitive, then only Harry has to know.

“Mmpfh,” Harry moans, rutting slowly into the shag pile carpet, “fuck me.”

Louis feels a shudder ripple up his body, because Harry’s _getting off on this._ It’s not shocking, exactly, it just seems…More dangerous, when Harry has wings. Forbidden. Louis Tomlinson _gets off_ on forbidden; it’s why he and Harry have lasted so long, and why it was so easy for Nick to join them.

“Not here, Haz. Don’t want the shag pile to start to resent us and leave us forever.” He also feels like it might be some kind of taboo to do it in front of a fire without Nick (Harry and Nick are both ridiculously sentimental and romantic, and Nick would never, ever forgive him for letting it happen without him.)

If only Nick could speed up from his impromptu work meeting, he could be getting laid right now. Fucking Nicholas Grimshaw and his sensitive soul and horse cock and chest hair he permanently wants to feel beneath him. Fucking Harry Styles and his inability to be calm about anything ever. If any of them had chill, they wouldn’t be in this fucking mess.

“Please, Lou.” Harry’s voice is decidedly breathless, and Louis has to imagine Harry in a gimp suit to calm himself down. (They’d tried it, once, but it had been so funny seeing Harry walk around in it Louis hadn’t even been able to get hard.)

“Harry, if you think for a second I’m fucking you in front of a fire without Nick, you’re mistaken and awful.” Louis should probably (most definitely) stop resorting to teasing to win arguments, because all it does is make Harry putty in his hands. And that is way too hot for Louis to handle on his own.

“Yes, roast me!” Harry giggles, tilting his face over his shoulder. The effect’s kind of hilarious, because of all the feathers he’s now got sprouting out of his back, but mostly Louis feels fond. Isn’t that the fucking story of his life.

“I love you too much to say shit like that to you, baby. Mean the world to me. You and Nick. Everything I’ve ever wanted, and I never even had to ask. You’re just naturally saints.”

Harry mumbles something, but with him face down in the carpet, Louis can’t hear it.

“Say again, love?”

“You act tough, Tomlinson, but you’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met.” Harry repeats, face an inch off of the floor.

“Hope I’m not counted out of that.” Nick says, and Louis is thrown off of Harry’s back as he jumps.

Louis pouts from where he’s lying on the carpet, legs on Harry’s wings and arse aching from the sudden drop.

“Nick!” Harry giggles, crawling onto his knees and patting blindly behind him to reach for Louis’ foot to say sorry. “We didn’t hear you come back! When did you get back?”

Nick smiles softly, in a way Louis knows is reserved for the two of them only. “Around the time you started begging for it, Hazza bean. Both were too distracted to notice me come in. The sight was too beautiful to pass up.”

He sits down beside them, pressing a soft kiss to Louis’ mouth that he assumes is for Louis being sweet. He should be sweet more often. No wonder Harry gets everything he wants. He’s beginning to think Harry is not as selfless as he seems.

“You wanna fuck?” Harry asks, a giddy look in his eyes that is plainly stating the answer. Louis and Nick are both too whipped to not do everything the boy says.

“In front of this fire? With my two favourite boys in the world? Obviously.” Nick reaches behind the storage cabinet for the bottle of lube they keep there (it started off as more of a joke, than anything else; keeping different bottles and packets of lube in every room. Then it just became a habit).

Louis smirks at Nick, making the ‘V’ around his mouth and tonguing between his fingers, and Nick smirks back.

“Hey, Haz…”

“Yeah, babe?” Harry’s moved onto his back, legs spread open, jeans shucked off. His cock’s tenting his tight briefs, a wet spot where the tip is. Louis’ only salivating a little bit. (A lot. There’s nothing in the world he loves more than sucking cock, except for maybe the two men in front of him.)

“You don’t really need to be fucked, do you? I mean, it’s more about Louis and I, than anything.” Nick’s already slipped into his dom voice; slightly gruffer, slightly colder. The sound of it raises goose bumps up and down Harry’s arms.

Harry’s panting already, getting hot from imagining being there but not being needed. Harry has a thing for being ignored, and being humiliated. Nick has a thing for getting Harry off without touching him, and Louis has a thing for dominating the pair of them together. They all have their things, and they fit so well together. _Meant to be_.

“No. It isn’t about me. It’s about you, Nick, always.” His voice is a keen, breathy and whiny. Louis feels a smirk twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“And me? What about me, baby?” It’s not that he’s offended, _per se_ , it’s just that he’s fucking offended.

Harry rushes to fix his mistake, even with glazed eyes and a pink face. “Both of you. Love you both so much, wanna be good.”

“Then be quiet, and watch us fuck. Don’t touch yourself.” They’ve done this enough times that Harry doesn’t complain, doesn’t huff, just curls his fists into the rug whilst Louis shuffles towards Nick on his knees.

“Kiss me.” Louis demands, and Nick obliges almost instantly.

It had scared Louis, the first time they’d kissed, because they’d fit so well. They’d fit the same way he and Harry did, and it had felt wrong at first, even though he and Harry had discussed it at length beforehand.  Now it feels like everything’s gone right; the way Nick bites at Louis’ lip and Louis curls his fingers into Nick’s chest hair in response. The way Louis feels himself melt into the taller man even though Louis is the most dominant of all three of them.

Nick’s fingers caress the side of Louis’s face and his armpit at the same time (they all have favourite places on each others’ bodies. Louis’s is Nick’s chest hair, and Harry’s hips. Nick’s is Louis’s armpits and Harry’s tits. Harry’s is Louis’s thighs and Nick’s throat. It works. It works really well.) Louis feels himself shudder. There’s something about being played with in places that aren’t meant to be sexy that gets his blood pumping south, his head going hazy.

“Want you to put your tongue on me,” Louis whispers, grazing his teeth along Nick’s earlobe, “want you to make me come.”

Nick hisses out a breath, grinding up against Louis’s thigh, mouth pressed to his throat. His teeth sink in deep enough to leave a bruise, and Louis purrs at the feeling. As much as he likes to dominate both Nick and Harry (and everyone, if he’s being honest) there’s something undeniably hot about being bitten and claimed. He can understand why Harry loves it.

“You can’t come till you’ve made me come.” Louis gasps, grinding down onto Nick’s cock through his jeans. His particular liking for grinding and dry humping probably stems from when he and Harry fucked in the X Factor, too turned on to get naked or do anything properly. “Take my trousers off. Want your tongue inside me.”

Nick shudders, and Louis knows he must be struggling to stop rutting against him, so he presses a gentle kiss to the side of his mouth before shuffling back. Nick’s eyes are glazed over, and the sight of them makes Louis’s tummy swirl with heat.

It takes Nick a while to wriggle the trousers off of Louis’s body, fumbling and tripping over him, clearly wanting to get it right first time. The power Louis has over him, over both Harry and Nick, doesn’t make him hot as much as it makes him pleased. He likes the idea of people listening to him, because they wouldn’t have a few years ago. Nobody took twinky Louis seriously, but he’d like to see the same people make a joke of him now.

“You can do better than this, baby, come on.”

Nick nods his reply, lip bitten between his teeth, hand slowly stroking over Louis’s tanned thigh. He’s got a thing for Louis’s thigh; not quite as much as he has a thing for Louis’s armpits, but enough of a thing that Louis knows not to joke about it.

“Get your tongue on me, darling, know how good you are with it.” His voice is soft, a parallel to the headiness surging through him at getting to tell Nick to fuck him the way he wants him to.

A soft noise comes from Harry’s corner, and Louis’s head whips round to stare at him. He’d told him not to make a sound, hadn’t he?

“Sorry!” Harry chirrups, eyes watering already at being a naughty boy. He hates getting told off, even though the punishments are his favourite.

“No. Noise.” Louis hisses, and turns to concentrate on Nick.

He’s inching down onto his forearms, licking his lips and staring openly at Louis’s naked arse. He loves how into it Nick gets, how hot it makes him to get someone off; it’s one of the ways Louis knew they were meant to be together, with Harry.

The first touch of his tongue has Louis panting, already whining a little bit in his throat. He loves it, is the thing, loves getting wrecked as much as he likes wrecking someone. Versatile, he supposes; they all kind of share that, really. By the time he’s suckling on Louis’s rim, tongue swirling around his hole, Louis has his arm clamped over his eyes, because the sight of him is too much. His other arm clamps onto Nick’s head, instead, pulling him in further when he moves away.

“Fing-nngh-ers, baby, use your fingers,” Louis says –moans, really-, and Nick obliges. He grabs for the lube bottle, squirts a bit on his fingers, and pushes in.

It’s always a bit cold at first, Louis knows that, and he’s always kind of enjoyed it. They haven’t done much temperature play before (ice cubes and wax coupled with Harry’s clumsiness and Louis’s sensitive skin has never seemed much of a good idea) but he thinks this could count. Maybe.

“That’s right, baby.” He manages to get out, as Nick’s finger slowly opens him up, tongue lapping around the places it isn’t going. Burning heat licks up Louis’s body, flames erupting from his skin. He feels full of unborn light, the kind of turned on that leaves you a shaking mess afterwards.

But Nick jumps back, looking terrified, and Louis crinkles his brow in response, turns to where Harry is suddenly curled up in a ball. What had he done? He’d been good, told Nick he was doing fine… What could he possibly have done?

“You -,” Nick whispers, shaking his hand with a look of pain in his eye, “ _burned_ me.”

Louis raises up onto his forearms to look around at them both, feeling quizzical. He doesn’t understand, he couldn’t have burned anyone, he didn’t –the heat.

It hasn’t happened often, hasn’t happened properly since he was sixteen, really, but when it has, he’s always been turned on, hot under the collar. He’d thought it had just gone away, like baby teeth, or something. Something that didn’t pass through into adulthood, but apparently he was wrong. Apparently now, after all the time he’s spent having incredible sex, is when it reappears. He can’t help but be the tiniest bit miffed. His sex has been fucking wonderful, perfect, beautiful –why hasn’t it happened until now?

Unless…

“Harry,” he rasps, voice still sex hazy ( _like it should stay,_ he thinks irritably) “baby, has anything like this happened to you before? The wings, I mean.”

Harry crumples his brow, before a look of confused shock appears in his eyes. “I mean, yes. I’d completely forgotten it, but. When I was fourteen. I’d done something great, I think, or someone else had made me feel like I’d done something great. I was really… content, I think? Happy beyond what I’d been happy like before. I don’t –“

He cuts himself off, eyes going slightly wide, and Nick’s eyes flick between Louis and Harry with confusion.

“I’d just realized I was gay. I’d fingered myself for the first time, and I was ecstatic about it, and I’d come out to my mum the next week. I’d grown wings over night after that, and I’d just. Locked myself in my room, because I didn’t want to be a freak, or anything. And they disappeared again the next day.”

Louis feels his heart speed up, his fingers going slightly numb. Because. The first time he’d done this, the fire thing, he’d been in love with his mate Stan. Properly in love with him, head over heels. He’d gotten over it, thank God, and they both laugh about it now, but.

“I was in love with Stan when this happened the first time.” He whispers, and Nick stares at him. He hasn’t heard this story, yet –not because Louis is, like, ashamed by it or anything, but because he hasn’t gotten around to telling it. “I was in love with him, right, and I was wanking, and I’d never felt more turned on, or like I knew who I was. I’d never felt more complete, and it was stupid, because Stan was straight, but I didn’t really care, I don’t think. I think I must have thought, _maybe, if I wait…_ And it didn’t happen, but by myself, wanking, fingering myself… It happened, then. And I felt completely at ease.”

“Are you saying,” Nick begins, before wiping his mouth a bit. Louis’s lips quirk into a grin at the sight, “that, the both of you, this happened when you were completely content in your queerness for the first time?”

Harry grins, suddenly, light turned on behind his eyes again. He looks so gorgeous, silhouetted against the flames with his wings slightly extended, fluttering slightly. Louis loves him so, so much.

“Yeah! It did! Do you know what this means?” He giggles, crawling towards them both, looking as much like a puppy as when Louis first met him.

Nick eyes him warily, and Louis has to stifle a giggle in his hands at the sight.

“Queer people are all magical!” He rolls onto his back, he’s laughing so hard, and Nick looks immediately affronted.

“Nothing like this ever happened to me, when I was accepting myself for the first time! Why do you get the cool things?” He’s literally, actually pouting.

“Think back, babe, into the days of yore when you were young and spritely-” Louis has to dodge a slap, giggles bursting from his mouth as he crawls next to Harry, “and coming to terms with yourself, when you’d finally accepted it… What happened?”

Nick crosses his eyes he’s trying so hard to remember, and Louis has a joke about his age on the tip of his tongue he knows he won’t actually use.

“Well,”  he ponders, “I went swimming, the day I’d finally dealt with it, and come out to my mum and dad. And, I guess a lot of weird things happened that day that I didn’t think about until now.”

“Like?” Louis prompts, already thirsty for information.

“Like the water rising too high, and lifeguards getting ready to get everyone out, and I remember thinking _I wish it’d just go down,_ and it did. And when I was getting out, and the water kind of… Followed me, I guess? It spilled over the sides and looked like it was moving like a snake, or whatever.” He wriggles slightly, as if by interpreting the water-snake he could understand the situation a little better.

“And has anything weird happened since then?” Harry asks, sobered up from his giggle fit. He looks imploring, like a counsellor, eyes lowered to where Nick’s slumped against the shag pile rug. Flames from the fire flicker over both of their faces, and Louis smiles at the sight. They’re both too God damn beautiful for their own good.

“Last night,” he whispers, and Louis’s interest is perked immediately, because what? He hadn’t heard anything like that, and Nick hadn’t said anything, “I was showering, remember? And the water went cold at one point, because you’d both had showers before me, and I just thought _get hot again_ and it… did? I just put it down to the pipes being weird again, or you two playing a prank on me, but I don’t think it was that at all.” He smiles, turning his face towards them, and Louis feels his breath catch in his throat.

“I think it was me finally realizing how right we are for each other, and that I’d rather be here than anywhere else.” His voice is soft, loving, and Louis does not, definitely does _not_ cry a little bit.

“Nick, baby, I love you so much,” Harry whispers, crawling on top of him and cuddling him close. It’s ridiculous, because Harry’s so much younger than Nick, and yet they still fit so well. They all fit so well. “So, so fucking much.”

Nick laughs, but it’s too throaty. At least Louis isn’t alone in crying a little bit. (Which, for the record, he _isn’t,_ there’s just some ash in his eye, or whatever.)

“Love you, too, Bambi,” his eyes rove over to Louis, smile on his bitten lips, “and Thumper.”

Louis covers them with his naked body in seconds, so full of light and love and adoration for these two boys that his heart aches with it. He loves them, so much, is meant to be with them, he’s sure of it.

Nick hisses, and Harry winces, and they both tell him off for burning them, but then there’s water spreading through the gaps, and they’re all chilled to the bone. And Louis thinks, if he were anywhere else, it wouldn’t be the right place for him to be. That this place, right here, in their home, is everything they need and more.

 

 

 

                                                                                                                                 *=*=*

There’s cameras snapping left, right and centre, and Louis feels his nose crinkle before he feels the hands at his waist and neck.

Both of his own hands are occupied, one in Harry’s and one in Nick’s, head staring straight on as they make their way through LAX. Harry’s body is shuddering next to him, and he knows what’s happening, what will happen once they’re alone and home free. That his wings will erupt from his back and Louis’s heat will swallow them all whole and Nick will do everything in his power to make sure they’re not all burned within an inch of their lives.

 “We did it.” Harry laughs, when they finally get to the waiting car. “We finally fucking did it.”

Nick and Louis smile at him, all splayed out across the two of them, and make the decision before Harry makes a shitty speech about making it through the rough times.

“Driver,” Louis calls, hands already working themselves around Harry’s thighs, dragging his jeans down to expose the milky skin beneath, “roll up the partition, please.”

                                                                               

 


	2. oh how beauty burns, lips and eyes and fingertips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s sweat rolling down Louis’s neck, pooling in his collarbones. The lights reflect against his body, music thrumming through his bones. Harry’s standing against the wall, eyes hungry, and Louis feels heat zip down his spine. He wants Harry, always wants Harry; he’s been in a perpetual dick haze since the X Factor, since before they got together. 
> 
> But Harry isn’t who he’s watching from his periphery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Pixie's actual birthday!!!! Happy birthday, babe, have this little prequel thing about how they got together. Short and sweet :D

There’s sweat rolling down Louis’s neck, pooling in his collarbones. The lights reflect against his body, music thrumming through his bones. Harry’s standing against the wall, eyes hungry, and Louis feels heat zip down his spine. He wants Harry, always wants Harry; he’s been in a perpetual dick haze since the X Factor, since before they got together.

But Harry isn’t who he’s watching from his periphery.

The man’s quiff weaves itself through the dancing crowd, his voice travelling over the beat of the music. He’s loud, jovial, like he always is when on the radio. This time he’s drunker, looser, less controlled. It makes something feral rise up in his gut, a parallel to how Harry always makes him feel. He’s always liked Nick, despite their rocky road to finding friendship, and he knows Harry’s fine with this, that having his two favourite people come together is his idea of heaven. But he’s –he’s nervous, really fuckin nervous, because Nick’s showed interest in them both before, and it’s not like they haven’t flirted a lot, but what if it was nothing more than that? If it’s all in Louis’s head and he was just an idiot?

Before he gets to think it through, Nick is smiling and swaying in front of him, eyes glassy.

“Louis, nice to see ya,” he giggles, leaning his head into Louis’s shoulder. Louis hopes he can’t feel the way his heart is speeding, the way his hands twitch to touch. “You’re always a right laugh.”

His breath moves in stutters and rasps against Louis’s throat, and it makes Louis feel slightly nauseous. He likes him, he really fucking likes him, and he wishes he didn’t, that he was happy with Harry alone, but. He wants Nick so, so much, and what better time to tell him that than when he’s pissed as a fart and unlikely to remember in the morning?

“Nick,” he begins, clearing his throat. He catches Harry’s eye, where he’s watching them with interest. He knows what this means to Louis, getting to say it alone so that Nick doesn’t think it’s a joke, so he doesn’t come over. He loves Harry so much.

“Yeah, Lou? Sup?” Nick talking isn’t making it easier; and he suddenly remembers the first time he told Harry he liked him. The way he’d made sure Harry didn’t look him in the eye, or respond before he’d finished. Nick and Harry are two very different people, and he still thinks the world of them.

“I like you.” He whispers, and it could be lost in the music’s flow, it could be lost in the chatter, but it isn’t. Nick freezes where his body is against Louis’s, and Louis feels his heart sink through his stomach and splatter against the club’s floor.

“What?” Nick asks, pulling his head away from Louis’s shoulder. His voice is shaking, like he’s afraid of what’s going to come out of Louis’s mouth.

_Because he doesn’t want you, because he’s going to let you down easy, tell you you’re a freak and Harry deserves better. And he’d be right._

“I like you. I want to date you.” He murmurs, and his voice catches. He hates this, this moment of suspended hope, of wondering whether the person you’re so attracted to is going to let you fall eighty floors or catch you instead.

Nick looks... Well, the word is furious, really. His eyes seem to glint red, but Louis knows it’s the club lights shining on them. It’s still terrifying. He looks so angry, jaw clenched and nostrils flaring.

“You don’t get to hurt Harry like that. Or me, for that matter, you don’t get to hurt us.” His voice is steady, but cold, like he’s lost all respect for Louis in this instant.

He doesn’t really blame him.

“I don’t. I’m not trying to hurt you, not you or Harry, I like you, really I do, and I just-”

Nick cuts him off, and this time his voice shakes, “You don’t get to take the piss out of me for having a crush on you and Harry, you fucking don’t. That’s not fair, Louis, it’s not fucking fair.”

Louis’s heart stops beating for a second, he swears it. His eyes wildly search Nick’s face, for a glimpse of a lie or a joke, and find nothing but heart wrenching sincerity.

Without thinking, he tugs Nick’s face towards his, and kisses him.

The kiss is bitter, the taste of alcohol on both of their tongues, and Nick doesn’t move into it for a moment. But when he does, he’s incredible. His lips are soft and wet, and the moan rumbling from his throat is making Louis hard in his pants.

Before Louis can properly get into it, though, Nick yanks himself away, tears suddenly springing up in his eyes. When Louis searches for a reason, he finds Harry standing next to him. He hadn’t heard him come towards them, but he has a look on his face that says he’s a little startled, but not angry.

“Oh, God, oh God. Oh no, I’m so sorry, fuck, I’m so sorry. I never meant to. I’m, I don’t-“

Harry starts laughing, then, the kind of laugh that spreads from toes to fingertips and warms your soul. It makes Louis feel a little bit breathless.

“Nick, mate, you should have seen your face!” He cackles, before leaning into Nick’s space and kissing him.

Louis has thought a lot about how well he and Nick would fit together, but he’d forgotten to think about how well Nick and Harry would be together, how seamlessly they’d move. Nick’s eyes are wide open even as he leans into Harry’s mouth, tonguing around the seam of his lips. It’s –hot, actually, because these two are the hottest people Louis has ever met (besides Zayn, but he doesn’t think Zayn counts. He’s a bit more of a God than he is a person).

“What?” Nick queries, as he pulls away, eyes wide and confused.

Harry smiles at him, adoring, before stretching his fingers out to graze Louis’s. Louis takes his hand without a thought.

“We both like you, Nick. We want to be with you, if you’d want us. Neither of us is being unfaithful, we want to be committed to you and to each other, that’s all we’re asking for. We know you like us, and well. We like you a lot, too.” Harry’s voice is steadier than Louis’s would have been (he would probably have started crying).

“Really?” Nick looks so happy, like the whole world has gone right. Louis feels his heart clench in his chest.

“We wouldn’t lie, Nick, honest.” Louis whispers, and when Nick glances at him he feels warmth dance through his body, burning and happy.

This could be the start of something really fucking great, he thinks. They could definitely take over the world.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http:/6nips.tumblr.com/) | [Twitter](<a%20href=)

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr post](http://grimlouis.tumblr.com/post/115759582401/skies-left-for-our-flying-places-left-to-see)


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